


I'm Alone With You, You're Alone With Me

by Sendryl



Series: The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Amnesia, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Battleaxe to the Skull, But he shares some similarities because I think it's funny, Doctor Rin, Dog Hatake Kakashi, Dogs Can't Eat Chocolate, Emotions, Feelings, Guess who fumbles their weapon when startled, Hospitals, I Don't Know You But I Trust You, KMP Detective Obito, KakaObi Week 2020, KakaObi2020, KakaObi2020 Day 1: Amnesia, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Only the Feelings for a while actually, Slight Panic Attack, all the feelings, i mean not literally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sendryl/pseuds/Sendryl
Summary: Obito wakes up in the hospital with a splitting headache and a shunt draining a blood clot in his brain. That’s not good.He can’t remember who he or any of the people around him are. That’s worse.But there’s something oddly comforting about the Anbu masking his presence in the corner.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Series: The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630276
Comments: 28
Kudos: 292
Collections: KakaObi Week 2020





	I'm Alone With You, You're Alone With Me

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm Hoping That You Will See Yourself
> 
> Like I See You

He wakes up to a slight headache and the sense that something isn’t quite right.

He blinks.

It’s the first voluntary movement he’s made in three days, and his eyes feel gritty and dry.

He blinks again, and his eyes drift lazily around the room, refusing to focus on anything for a few minutes. He doesn’t mind. He feels soft and floaty, like he’s suspended in a pool of water instead of lying comfortably on a bed.

There aren’t any thoughts in his mind, no words or images to help him orient himself. He just _feels._

When he finally manages to force his eyes to focus, he ends up staring at the far corner of the room, next to the closed window.

There’s nothing there.

It’s an entirely empty corner, but somehow it’s radiating a sense of safety and peace. He gets the sense that the corner would protect him from anything and everything, and it’s a very, very odd feeling to have about _the corner of a room._

He still isn’t thinking. 

He blinks again and drags his eyes away. As if a spell’s been broken, anxiety and confusion crash over him in a thundering wave, and he can suddenly hear his pulse pounding in his ears, a rampant drumbeat sending him spiralling into sheer panic.

His fingers grip the scratchy sheets and as he takes a gasping breath in an attempt to ground himself, a bit of understanding hits him like a battleaxe to the skull.

_Hospital,_ he finally thinks. _I’m in the hospital._

He feels like he should’ve clued in to the whiteness of the walls and the sterilized scent earlier, but whatever put him in here seems to have knocked his connection to reality a little loose. He strives for understanding, wracks his brain for answers, but all it gets him is a sudden spike of pain behind his eyes.

He can’t remember what happened to him and his head is aching fiercely now that he’s trying to think, but as he starts raising a hand to attempt to relieve his headache he gets distracted by the scars.

His arm is twisted and mangled, deep grooves marring his flesh from shoulder to fingertips, his hand and shoulder oddly-colored. His arm feels odd, sensations muffled and difficult to read. When he presses a trembling hand to his body beneath the blankets he can feel the scars there too, as far down his leg as he can reach. He can feel the same slightly muffled sensation on his face, and he doesn’t have to raise his hand to know the scars are there too.

It’s all strange and uncomfortable and the scars send him a sense of loathing and fear and-

He can’t remember how he got them.

It looks important. The scars are old and worn with time, years-old and faded and he must’ve gotten them in a traumatic incident but _he can’t remember what happened._

He can’t-

He-

_He can’t remember anything._

It hits him then, the strange lack of words and thoughts condensing into a realization that he has no idea who or where or what he is. Considering half his body appears to have been crushed and mutated at some point, is he even human?

His heart rate is speeding up again, his breath rasping in his chest, his lungs ineffective and his head starting to spin and the door suddenly slams open. It shocks him enough that he doesn’t entirely hyperventilate. Instead, he chokes on what little air he managed to get, and he coughs as a woman in a white coat walks briskly up to his side.

“Deep breaths,” the doctor says, her voice soothing and low. She smiles gently at him as she places a glowing green hand on his chest. His lungs respond instantly, loosening enough that he can breathe again, and he sighs in relief. “There’s no reason to panic,” the doctor continues.

She feels like safety and serenity, a distant sense of kinship emanating from her and he doesn’t know _why_ but he trusts her entirely. His panic vanishes as swiftly as it came, and he feels drained by the sudden lack of adrenaline. He can’t place her face, doesn’t know her name or how he knows her, but even though his brain is sending out only question marks, his _heart_ trusts her.

He sighs. Since his memory’s on the fritz, he’s going to have to rely on his emotions.

His emotions are telling him that this woman is _right._ The feeling is so strong it’s as if it’s suffusing his entire body, filling him with light and hope and peace, and he doesn’t fight the smile his heart is telling him is the proper response to feeling so good. He beams at the doctor, and she smiles back with such fondness that he knows he’s made the right call.

He’ll trust his emotions to lead him through this.

She’s still smiling at him, smoothing both hands over his hair, checking his bandages as she does so. There’s a faint tug and a tingling sensation _inside his skull,_ which his brain thinks should send him into another panic but his heart is telling him that the doctor is _completely trustworthy_ so there’s no panic to be found. When she pulls back, she’s holding a tube and a bag with a faint red tinge to the inside.

_A shunt,_ his mind supplies, choosing to remember this _obviously vital_ piece of information instead of literally any information about himself. _Must’ve had a blood clot in my brain._

Again, that should be incredibly concerning, but the doctor is still smiling kindly at him, and the only emotion he can muster is an overwhelming fondness.

“You had a subdural hematoma, and we kept you in a medical coma to treat it properly,” the doctor explains as she disposes of the shunt and tube. “You’re healing well, as always. You should be good to leave in a few hours, so please don’t try to escape until then.”

For some reason, she’s directing that last statement to the comforting corner, along with an expression he doesn’t understand. It’s something between fond exasperation and painful empathy, but why would a doctor feel that way about a particularly comforting corner?

_At least I wasn’t imagining things?_ He isn’t sure what the doctor sees that he doesn’t, because he’s convinced now that _something’s_ there, but eventually she just shakes her head at the corner and turns back to him.

“Honestly, Obito,” the doctor sighs, dropping her professional air and giving him an exaggerated frown that pulls at the purple markings on her cheeks, “if you wanted to get out of the date, all you had to do was ask. There’s no need to get all dramatic over a blind date, y’know.”

“Blind date?” He asks, the first words he’s spoken. The first words _Obito’s_ spoken, apparently. It’s good to have a name to put to himself, at least, but the fact that there’s no spark of recognition to go with the name is… Worrying.

The doctor is staring at him now, concerned. “The blind date I set you up on, with that friend of a friend’s civilian cousin? The one you were heading to when you got nailed in the head by the broadside of a chunin’s fumbled battleaxe? Ringing any bells?”

It isn’t. Obito’s pretty sure there aren’t even any bells in his head to ring in the first place. He stares at the doctor for another few seconds, and he knows that this isn’t the right question, isn’t what he wants to ask and he shouldn’t have to ask it in the first place, but…

“I’m sorry,” he starts, and winces when he sees the doctor’s relieved expression. Her relief is going to be pretty short lived. “Do I know you?”

**

It takes a few hours, but finally Obito is alone in his hospital room again.

Apparently, his doctor’s name is Nohara Rin, and they’ve been best friends since the Academy. She’d given him the dirtiest look when he’d called her ‘Nohara-san’, so she’s just ‘Rin’ now.

Rin had checked him repeatedly, medical chakra scanning his brain, and diagnosed him with temporary amnesia due to blunt force trauma. She’d determined that his memory should come back on its own within a day or so. She’d left him with strict instructions to think as much as he could in order to exercise his brain, eat his dinner to help fuel his healing, and get some sleep to rest his overtaxed brain.

She had then refused to explain his body to him beyond a quick, “You’ve got it all under control, Obito. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Rin was both endearing and aggravating, apparently.

Since he’s only got a few thoughts in his brain at the moment, he reviews them repeatedly.

His name is Uchiha Obito, and he really was taking a shortcut through a lone chunin’s training ground when the kid lost control of her weapon and brained him. What a stupid way to almost die.

The chunin had raced to the hospital for help, since she was reluctant to move him when he’d had the broadside of an axe slammed into his skull, and he’s been in the hospital ever since.

It’s been three days, which doesn’t seem all that long to him, even though Rin’s expression told him he shouldn’t have said that. He’s actually finding the entire hospital experience to be quite comforting, although much of that feeling can be attributed to the corner of the room.

Obito finds his gaze being drawn there more and more as time goes by, as specialists come and go and a nurse brings him his evening meal and helps him sit up against a mound of pillows to eat. He’s only been awake for a few hours, but he’s already exhausted. He doesn’t want to sleep though. There’s a sense that he’s missing something, which is hilarious considering that he’s missing his entire memory. Regardless of his brain’s logic, his heart is telling him that there’s something important he has to do, and despite trying to focus his thoughts and exercise his brain, his attention keeps getting pulled back to the corner.

Finally, after staring for a solid five minutes, he has to check. There’s no one else in the room to see him and make fun of him and he’s finished his dinner and isn’t hungry for dessert, so he offers his pudding cup to the corner.

“Want some? It’s chocolate.” He tries to sound inviting and not like a crazy person offering a pudding cup to a corner. He’s not sure he succeeds.

There’s a long moment where nothing happens, and Obito starts feeling stupid and embarrassed even though there’s no one to laugh at him, but before he can lower his arm there’s a sudden sense of presence in the corner and right in front of Obito’s eyes a man in a mask appears.

_Oh thank the Pure Land I’m not crazy._

He’s dressed all in black, pants and long sleeves beneath armor and even a hood, black fabric covering every inch of skin and hair save his shoulders. They’re pasty white and his bright red tattoo draws Obito’s gaze immediately. The man sticks out like a sore thumb against the white of the hospital walls. No wonder he was hiding.

His mask has curving stripes, almost like whiskers, and little pointed ears at the top, and the sight sends a strange emotion pulsing through Obito. He still feels safe and protected, feels that even more actually, but… He also feels a similar fondness and kinship to what he felt with Rin.

The man in the mask stares at him, then steps out of his corner and takes the pudding, his fingers barely grazing Obito’s and making him twitch. Obito passes over a spoon as well, and the sight of the masked man holding a pudding cup and spoon makes him smile.

The fondness increases tenfold, almost enough to make Obito’s breath stutter in his chest. His heart is beating hard and slow, and he wonders if his pulse is visible in his neck. He smiles wider and can somehow sense the man smiling back, and he’s sure of it now. This person is someone vitally important. He’d better keep them close.

“Nice to meet you,” Obito says. “Do we know each other?”

There’s no doubt in his mind that they know each other, but he knows he should probably ask instead of assuming. The man can’t read his mind, after all.

The masked man pauses for a split second too long before shaking his head.

“We do!” Obito laughs, pleased to have caught him out, and the masked man doesn’t move but he gives off an impression of a sigh and slumped shoulders. Obito isn’t sure how he knows that, but he trusts his instincts.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Obito says, because it feels like the right thing to say, it feels right to tease this man, and it also feels right to ignore the man’s nervous twitch at being called out. “I need to try to think as much as I can, Rin said it’ll help me regain my memories.”

The masked man knows that, since he’s been in the room since Obito first woke up.

“Do you have a name?” Obito asks.

The masked man does his unmoving impression of a sigh again.

“Hound.”

It’s only a word, one quick, clipped syllable, but something in Obito’s brain resonates at the sound of Hound’s voice. He closes his eyes, chasing the feeling, but it’s already gone. Obito huffs in frustration, and he opens his eyes to see Hound’s mask about a foot too close, right in front of his eyes.

“Woah!” Obito yelps, jerking back and flailing, starting to fall off the bed. Hound calmly catches him by the shoulder.

“Careful,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

_He’s worried,_ Obito knows, all of a sudden. _I scared him when I ended up in here. He’s still afraid something bad will happen to me, even with Rin’s reassurances._

Rin had said that his memories would start coming back, but he’d thought it would be as images and, well, _memories,_ not sudden understandings of masked men. Obito stares at Hound as he pushes him back up to lean on the pillows. Hound reaches behind him with the hand not supporting Obito and rearranges the pile, making sure to place a pillow on either side of Obito this time, to ensure that he won’t fall again.

Hound’s fussy motions are familiar, the proximity of his body soothing when he reaches over Obito to set a pillow on his far side, and Obito can’t help but wonder how many times Hound has taken care of him. He hopes he’s returned the favor. He hopes that he’s been able to protect Hound as much as Hound clearly protects him.

His brain makes the connection between Hound protecting him and the sense of safety he’s been feeling almost the entire time he’s been awake, and he knows exactly what to say to take Hound’s mind off of his fears.

Obito grins. “I was right,” he says, and when Hound seems confused he elaborates, pointing at the corner Hound appeared in. “When I woke up, the corner made me feel safe. I felt like it would protect me. It’s a strange feeling to have about a corner, let me tell you, so I was really relieved when you showed up.”

Hound has been getting more and more confused, Obito can tell somehow even though Hound hasn’t emoted at all, so he hurriedly finishes his explanation.

“It makes much more sense that _you’d_ protect me.”

He’d said it to let Hound know how much he appreciated him, to make him feel valued and cared for, but for some reason, Obito’s words cause Hound to draw in on himself. It’s not a visible movement, Hound hasn’t really moved since he finished arranging the pillows and his hand is still holding Obito’s shoulder from when he caught him, but there’s a sense of discomfort and almost _fear_ surrounding him. It’s the opposite of what Obito wanted him to feel, and he’s frustrated that his brain won’t tell him how to fix this.

“I’m sorry,” Obito apologizes, “I mean…” He’s unsure what exactly to say to make Hound feel the way he wants him to. He’s about to continue apologizing or attempt to rephrase, but Hound just shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says on a sigh.

Obito frowns at that, and he determinedly raises his hand to grasp Hound’s on his shoulder. He doesn’t even realize it’s the scarred hand.

“I meant it,” he says firmly, deciding to push forward in spite of Hound’s disagreement. “I know you’d protect me. Wouldn’t you? I bet you have already, right?”

He knows that’s true. He can feel it down to his soul, like it’s a truth written in his DNA. If Obito is in danger, Hound will protect him.

There are minute tremors running through Hound’s hand, his long fingers gripping Obito’s shoulder tight.

“I try to,” Hound admits softly, and Obito beams.

“There, you see? I was right.”

But Hound is shaking his head.

“I failed to protect you once already.” His voice is quieter now, just the barest whisper of breath, carrying a heavy weight, and Obito feels a twinge in his chest at the admission of guilt.

He knows that feeling, that bone-deep regret and sorrow. He doesn’t know what caused it, what either of them has done in their lives to feel such guilt, but he knows that he’s already forgiven Hound for whatever he did.

Obito wonders if he’s ever told him that, if the Obito who remembers everything ever remembered to forgive Hound for his failure.

Regardless, there’s no stopping him from forgiving Hound now.

“I forgive you,” Obito says, simply, direct and easy and firm as stone, and Hound rasps in a shuddering breath.

He exhales in a shaky laugh and says, “You can’t. You don’t even remember who you are.”

He’s right.

“You’re right, Hound, I don’t remember much of anything.”

Hound is breathing hard behind his mask, each inhale rasping through what sounds suspiciously like tears.

“But I know my own heart, at least.” Obito catches Hound’s gaze with his own, holds it steady, and he can just barely see a hint of something, _someone_ through the slitted eyes of the mask. He pulls Hound’s hand free from his shoulder and presses it over his chest. “There’s not even a tiny bit of resentment in here.” His heart beats, calm and slow and heavy as a promise beneath their clasped hands. “I only feel good things about you. My heart _likes_ you, Hound.”

Hound makes a strangled sound, bitten off as quickly as he can, and Obito thinks back over what he said.

“Oh,” he says, and he can feel his heart speeding up. He knows Hound can feel it too.

His heart is filling with warmth and pleasure, happiness filling him with each heartbeat.

He knows this feeling.

If he had his memory, he’d probably be panicking. He’d be flustered and freaked out and terrified of spilling his secrets, but he doesn’t have his memories to guide him. All he has are his emotions, and those are incredibly clear.

“I love you,” Obito says, wondering and awed, and he _smiles_ at Hound and leans forward to knock their foreheads together.

He feels wonderful, happy and free and fond and so in love he can hardly keep from removing Hound’s mask and kissing him. But he won’t. Not yet.

If they haven’t started anything between them, and judging by Hound’s quickened breathing and frozen body they definitely haven’t yet, Obito wants to start on even footing.

“When I get my memory back I’m taking you on a date,” he says firmly, still smiling, his eyes staring into Hound’s. He’s close enough now to see two wide eyes, one black, one red, and the sight calms him and fills him with a sense of pride and protectiveness.

Hound makes another strangled sound, and Obito would be worried that his feelings weren’t returned, but… Hound isn’t pulling away. If anything he’s pressing closer, his mask cool against Obito’s forehead, his hand hot on his chest.

The exhaustion Obito’s been keeping at bay since he finished his meal suddenly hits him like a doton to the face, all that emotional heavy-lifting having worn him out, and he leans back onto the pillows. Hound follows him down, forehead pressed tight against Obito’s own.

“I’m gonna sleep,” Obito mumbles, barely holding in his yawn. “You’ll stay?”

“Yes,” Hound breathes, finally pulling back enough that Obito can see his entire mask.

When Obito shuffles to the side and pulls Hound in, he doesn’t resist. He just rearranges the pillows to better support Obito before climbing up to join him. They end up side-by-side on the hospital bed, Obito’s head resting on Hound’s shoulder, their hands clasped and pressing against Obito’s heart again.

“Goodnight,” Obito sighs into Hound’s shirt, eyes already closed, and Hound drops his head down to gently nuzzle the top of Obito’s head in response. His mask is gone.

Obito doesn’t look, knows in his heart that he shouldn’t, but the feeling of Hound’s nose and lips against his bandaged head reminds him of something.

“Eat your pudding, Puppy,” he mutters, almost asleep already. When Hound makes a questioning sound, he grins, knowing Hound can feel it against his shoulder.

“You’re ‘Hound’, but you’re a bit silly, so ‘Puppy’ fits too.”

The joke feels familiar, and he can feel Hound’s silent laughter shaking through his chest.

“Goodnight, Puppy,” Obito yawns, and relaxes entirely, knowing that he’ll be safe and protected from anything.

Just before he falls asleep, he feels Hound’s lips on his head again. He’s smiling.

“Goodnight, Obito.”

**

Obito wakes up to a slight headache and the sense that everything is alright.

He blinks.

It’s the first voluntary movement he’s made in a few hours, and his eyes feel gummy and gross.

He blinks again, and his eyes immediately snap to the arm draped over his chest.

There’s a body breathing calmly beside him and a hand intertwined with his own, pressed over his heart even in sleep, and the memory of the last day roars through his brain faster than a trip through kamui.

There’s a moment, after he’s reviewed the events of the previous day, where Obito sees two paths clearly laid out before him. He could panic, fling himself or Hound - _Kakashi_ \- out of bed, scream or flail or cry because he bared his soul yesterday and he really hadn’t meant to.

Or.

He could accept that what he said and did yesterday was right, was true to how he feels. He hadn’t lied to Kakashi, not with his words and not with his actions. Everything he did was something he’s wanted to do for years. He hasn’t because the timing has never seemed right to move forward with his feelings, or Kakashi’s been gone on missions, or Obito’s been busy with work, or Obito’s been _afraid_ and stuffed his feelings down and locked them up where Kakashi couldn’t find them out of fear that their current relationship, their friendship which means _everything_ to Obito, would crumble under the weight of his love.

He’s always been so afraid of his feelings. Of Kakashi’s reaction to the way he feels.

But there’s no reason to fear now. All his cards have been laid out by his less-inhibited, emotion-driven self, and _Kakashi didn’t run away._

He must be thinking too loudly, because Obito suddenly feels Kakashi’s breath hitch in his throat. It’s just a slight thing, and his breathing smooths back out immediately after, no one else would even notice that he’s feigning sleep, but Obito’s face is still tucked up against Kakashi’s neck and he _knows_ Kakashi. He’s seen him wake up on countless missions and all the times they’ve crashed at each other’s apartments, each time with a flimsier excuse. He knows that silent, slightly-off rhythm breath and the way Kakashi checks the room with his other senses before opening his eyes. He can even feel Kakashi’s pulse spiking. Obito’s forehead is pressed into the underside of his jaw and his lips are on Kakashi’s throat, both points of contact registering Kakashi’s heartbeat picking up speed. Kakashi’s awake now, and Obito knows he’s utterly terrified to open his eyes and see where they stand. Just like Obito could choose to be.

Obito isn’t scared though, and he’s not going to let himself slip back into his cowardice and fear. Yesterday’s Obito used his lack of fear to spill his feelings. Today’s Obito can still feel the certainty of his realization that he _loves_ Kakashi.

It was a powerful thing, to realize all over again just how far he’s fallen for his dearest friend.

He’s not going to hide his feelings any longer. He’d much rather choose to be in love instead.

Obito pulls back, just a little, and tilts his head up to look at his best friend, the only person he’d choose to be his partner in everything life has to offer, and there’s no Hound mask between them now. It’s just Kakashi, and he turns his head slightly to look down at Obito, his usual mask pulled up over his nose, his hitai-ate pushed up into his hair, his eyes masked behind a false smile. Obito knows he’ll have to work hard to get him to drop either of those masks, but the absent Anbu mask and the lifted hitai-ate is a good start.

Before Kakashi can say anything, laugh the whole situation off or try to run or set Obito off with a taunt, Obito _moves._

He pushes himself up and forward and brings their foreheads together, the same way he had last night, and he smiles into Kakashi’s widening eyes. It gives him a bit of a rush to realize that Kakashi will remember last night forever. He sobers when he remembers that Kakashi will remember everything he does and says now too. He has to handle this carefully.

“Hey, Bakashi,” he says, keeping his voice soft so as not to startle him. “Did you ever eat that pudding? Sorry, I guess I forgot you’re allergic to chocolate.”

Kakashi jumps a little anyway, putting two and two together as quickly as ever.

“You remember?” Kakashi asks, just to be sure.

“Everything,” Obito confirms. He’s still smiling, and he leans in and brushes their noses together just to make Kakashi's breath catch in his throat. It works like a charm.

“So, Puppy,” Obito breathes into the tiny space between them, and seeing the edges of a blush appear above Kakashi’s mask feels like a victory.

"Where do you want to go for our date?" Obito asks, wiggling his eyebrows with a mischievous grin, and Kakashi drops his head to Obito’s shoulder and dissolves into helpless laughter.

His eyes are wide and sparkling with amusement when he finally sits back, and that’s one mask down already.

Obito can’t help but look forward to when the final mask between them falls.

**Author's Note:**

> KakaObi2020 Day 1!!!
> 
> Okay, so I know the KMP (Konoha Military Police) Detective Obito thing didn't come up, but I couldn't work it into the fic naturally, so...  
> It's gonna be my little theme for this series of fics.
> 
> Yes, series.
> 
> KakaObi2020 is going to be a series of fics centered around KMP Det. Obito and ANBU Kakashi.  
> They won't be direct sequels, because I love the Mistaken Identity trope WAY too much to only use it here. XD  
> But they'll be spiritual successors. Maybe some actual sequels if the bunny bites.
> 
> Anyway, KakaObi week is off to a great start! I'm intending to participate as much as I can, and I've already got my idea for tomorrow's prompt about secret agents. :D :D :D (Sai should be making an appearance, if I can manage to write the squirrelly little bastard...)
> 
> A few backstory notes:
> 
> I always headcanon Kakashi as having some canine features. Can't eat chocolate or garlic or caffeine. Turns in circles and claws up the ground when he sleeps outside ([insert garden claw gif here](https://giphy.com/gifs/funny-claw-fyWkmusOMi8vK)). Has a mouth full of [very sexy fangs](https://sloaners.tumblr.com/post/169792002177/were-you-really-only-hiding-a-mole-under-your). That kinda thing.
> 
> Rin picked up "y'know" from Kushina. That's what happens when your sensei's wife has a catchphrase and uses it all the time!
> 
> Yes it was Sakura who axed Obito's skull. No I'm not sorry. She's really sorry though. But YOU try to stop yourself from attacking a random figure dashing through your training ground when you're in the middle of working off nightmares! She totally lied to Rin about fumbling the axe btw. Obito's just lucky she recognized Kakashi-sensei's crush and turned the axe at the last second to hit him with the broadside instead of the blade. Naruto and Sasuke would've killed her if she murdered Obito before they could con Kakashi-sensei into asking him out.
> 
> Obito lies and says that hospitals make him uncomfortable and tries to escape because Kakashi always accompanies him during his hospital stays, and he knows Kakashi hates hospitals and won’t rest or relax while he’s in one. They bring back too many bad memories or times when he almost lost one of his precious people. So Obito always escapes as quickly as possible, so Kakashi can too.
> 
> Oh backstory, why do I write you???
> 
> If you find a typo, please politely let me know! :)
> 
> Drop me a line here or on tumblr or both! Because comments are my lifeblood!
> 
> Seriously, you might inspire another fic if you comment or come chat at me. It's happened before. :D
> 
> Come scream with me on tumblr. I'm [Sendryl](https://sendryl.tumblr.com/) there too.
> 
> Fic title from [Missio - I See You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=506k3_V4z7o).  
> Comment by TheOnlyZar - "(This song could be) about one’s inner self being there for (them). Lines such as 'I’m alone with you, you’re alone with me' and all the examples of what the singer sees point towards someone seeing everything the singer does." Made me think of your uninhibited self knowing what you really want out of life and just going for it, so that's the direction the fic went.
> 
> Series title from [The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man - Album by Missio](https://open.spotify.com/album/1lxOTjnDs6u4UHn2fzMNxu?autoplay=true&v=L).


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